Crows

This is the time of year when, from mid-afternoon until dawn, the crows flock together to roost. It is an eerie, rather unnerving, sight to walk beneath trees studded with hundreds of those large black birds. (Thank you Hitchcock.) They swarm like starlings. This presence in the winter landscape feels metaphoric of the dark grey, stormy season. As much as sea gulls, the crow (often called raven, but being a smaller cousin) is a bird that characterizes Cascadia. They are ubiquitous here and, being scavengers, their society is tightly interwoven with the human one.

They are integral to the cultural landscape as well. A prominent totem in Northwest Native American culture, the crow (raven) is seen as wise and a trickster, and is a central character in many creation stories.

As much as modern society often reviles crows as aggressive, thieving birds, they practice a noble community and family life. Mating pairs are generally together for life. They are very protective of their family (ever been dive-bombed by a crow in the spring? You were likely near a nest or a fledgling on the ground). The young stay with the family group for the first 2 or 3 years of their life, helping their parents raise their younger siblings before heading out to make a nest, and life, of their own.

There are innumerable stories about the intelligence of crows, from using tools for foraging to adaptation of scavenging behavior to respond to others to problem solving and teamwork when dealing with predators. I regularly see crows (or even a single crow) chasing off a bald eagle.

They are “old souls” with a sense of humor and a low threshold for BS. I admire that.